


My Secrets That Hide Under Your Skin

by PinkLady80



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst and Feels, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Lack of Communication, M/M, Red String of Fate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-07
Updated: 2018-04-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 22:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14246730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkLady80/pseuds/PinkLady80
Summary: Mitch Marner is a Confessor; his skin can absorb secrets whispered into it.  Mitch is a confessor because he loves openly and is strong enough to carry the worries, hopes, and fears of another person.Auston Matthews is his penitent.





	My Secrets That Hide Under Your Skin

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work of fiction and contains: Non-existent communication about Feelings.

Confessing magic is part talk therapy, part old magic.  Psychologists would say that there is little difference between them; both allow a person to safely speak of feelings or topics they would otherwise hide.  Acknowledging feelings helps a person function better in relationships and in society.

But confessing magic is more than spoken words, the confessor can see all the feelings of the penitent.  It’s like a painting.  An emotional self-portrait.  The confessor does not know the causes of the feelings, just the feelings themselves.  Nor will the confessor remember the self-portrait when the session is over; all the penitent’s feelings soak into the confessor’s skin and away from their conscious mind.

In very rare cases, emotions that are very strong will leave a stain on the confessor.  Any stains will stay in the conscious part of the confessor’s mind, even after the magic breaks.

No one knows why some people need a confessor while others do not.  No one knows how the magic pairs up a penitent with their confessor; sometimes the two parties know each other but other times they are strangers.

Maybe it’s Fate.  Maybe it’s just chance.

What everyone does know is the protocol.  The confessor is not allowed to see or hear the penitent before, during, or after a confession.  To prevent the magic of the confessional from breaking, the confessor wears a blindfold and earplugs.  Prolonged skin contact is required between the two parties.

The confessional magic breaks when the penitent no longer needs the confessor or when there is inappropriate contact between the two.  If there is inappropriate contact, all the penitent’s feelings from the last session become known to the confessor.

Mitch Marner is a confessor; his skin can absorb secrets whispered into it.  Mitch is a confessor because he loves openly and is strong enough to carry the worries, hopes, and fears of another person.

Auston Matthews is his penitent.

Auston who has the shoulders, and the burden, of Atlas.  Auston, who's hockey is a love poem to a war god.  Auston, who bottles feelings up inside.

His mother is worried but there isn't much she can do from three time-zones away.

His girlfriend worries; how can they take their relationship to the next level if Auston doesn't share his feelings?

Mitch is worried because he and Auston are intimate friends.  Mitch can't help him if Auston won't share his burden.  Sometimes, mainly in dark hotel rooms, he gets Auston to open up a little; like secrets shared at night are still secrets when the sun rises.  Mitch keeps all Auston's secrets.

The bond manifests before the start of their fourth season together.  They're hugging at Mitch's front door after the summer apart, when Fate yanks on the red ribbon she tied around their wrists at birth, and a shiver passes between them.

Auston's girlfriend breaks up with him; he clearly has no intention of sharing his feelings with her.  If this bothers Auston, Mitch can't get it out of him.

Mitch's girlfriend is scared.  Being someone's confessor is time consuming and intimate.  She already shares so much of Mitch with Auston; what will be left for her?

To balance out the needs of his girlfriend with the needs of his best friend, Mitch sets some ground-rules.  Confessions are to be set-up ahead of time.  Mitch’s girlfriend does not want to be around during Auston’s confessions and this ensures that the two don’t accidentally run into each other.

Mitch will not hear any confessions on Sundays.  He needs a day where he can make plans with his girlfriend.

To prevent Mitch from seeing or hearing Auston when he shouldn't, Auston will text Mitch when he leaves his condo and again when he’s in Mitch’s parking garage.  Auston also agrees to text when he’s back in his car, giving Mitch an “all clear” sign.

Mitch’s girlfriend has some rules of her own.  She agrees that they can use the Mitch's guest bedroom for confessions, but she asks that Auston limits his time to one hour and that Mitch keep the door open and change the sheets when they’re done.  It’s not an unreasonable request and Mitch agrees.

The first few sessions are awkward as they navigate how much bare skin is needed and how they should arrange themselves so Auston gets the most benefit.  Mitch feels exposed the first time they end up with his back to Auston's chest as Auston lays against the headboard; he has never been the little spoon before.

When their skin touches, Mitch can see Auston's emotions in beautiful technicolor on the backs of his eyelids.  Auston's loneliness is a mist of grey and black; his frustration a roiling storm-cloud of black and red.  There is a meadow of green and gold that feels like appreciation.  Pride is also present; a lion draped in robes of amethyst.

At the end of every session, Auston presses Mitch's phone into his hands, making sure he can feel Auston's text.  By the time Mitch is free to take off blind-fold and remove the earplugs, he can't remember any of Auston's feelings.

With Mitch sharing Auston's emotional burden, Auston takes his game to the next level.  Now, he is the war god.  Half Athena, half Aries, his play is clever and well thought through but at the same time fast and physical.

Auston is happier off the ice too.  He's one of the more reserved guys on the team but with his level of skill he's expected to lead.  Now, he spends a little more time working with wide-eyed rookies, speaks a little more at leadership meetings, and encourages the team pranksters.

Mitch, the team's Fine Master, and the long-suffering Mo are forced to review their list of chargeable offenses.  Auston is the reason why if someone takes all the shaving cream in the locker room the fine is $1,000 American.  Mitch gleefully announces the updated list at practice one morning and then slaps Auston with a fine for $500 because he can.  Over the laughter of the team, Mo graciously refuses to hear Auston's appeal and Mitch jangles the jar (all fines will be donated to Food Banks Canada at the end of the season) at him until he pays up.

Mitch is happy because Auston is happy.  He doesn't care about the reasons.

The next time she visits, Auston's mom hugs Mitch until it feels like he might pop and sends him home with over four liters of her amazing soup.  Auston pouts because he didn't get any soup.  Mitch reminds Auston that he is an amazing friend by freezing it in hockey-player sized portions and sharing it with Auston whenever he misses his family.

Being Auston’s confessor takes a toll on Mitch’s relationship with his girlfriend.  She doesn’t know why he’s Auston’s confessor in addition to his friend.  Why can’t Auston talk to him the way most people confide in their friends?  Why can’t he talk to a therapist?

When she’s over at Mitch’s condo the first thing she does is close the door to the guest bedroom, as if a specter of Auston lives there.

 She finally breaks up with him in April.  She says that there are no parts of Mitch that belong to her anymore.  All of Mitch belongs to Auston and it hurts too much to stay.

It hurts so much to watch her go.  Mitch cries because a piece of him is gone.

He tells the team and starts the long processes of healing.  Auston is a rock, even from Arizona, texting daily and calling weekly.  After he returns to Toronto in August, Auston brings forbidden ice cream with him the first time he and Mitch make dinner plans.  Mitch reheats the last of the soup Mrs Matthews made and they proceed to watch terrible movies while drinking soup and eating the ice cream straight from the container.

When Auston asks, Mitch can honestly say he feels a little better.  The pain is still there but not as sharp.

It's early December, eight months after the breakup, when Mitch has a devastating realization.  He doesn't just love Auston, he's in love with him.  Fuck.

This awakening of feeling comes at a good time for Mitch.  The team just started their west coast Circus Trip of California, Arizona, and Vegas.  Mitch is at home with a badly sprained wrist and isn't traveling with them.  This allows him almost two weeks to work through his feelings.

Is Mitch even ready to be in relationship yet?  Are these feelings genuine or are they brought on by proximity and Mitch's position as Auston's confessor?

Mitch's problem with being in love with Auston is himself.  Mitch isn't upset because he's in love with another man, love is love, but because his heart had to pick least obtainable person.  Auston is a beautiful, amazing human being and he deserves someone who is his equal.  That equal is not likely to be Mitch.  His heart aches a little with that realization.  Mitch decides the best course of action is to hide his feelings and hope they will resolve themselves over the long summer.

Just because Mitch is in Toronto and Auston is not, doesn't mean that Mitch has escaped him entirely.  Because Auston is a wonderful and loyal friend, he checks up on Mitch daily, making sure that he's not in pain and not lonely.  But because Auston is also a jerk, Mitch gets a steady stream of pictures of things a person can do when they have full use of their dominant hand.  Mitch flips his phone the bird and informs Auston that he deserves to be bag-skated but that he played well against the Sharks.

Mitch feels lucky that he didn't receive any stock photos of guys jerking off.  It wouldn't have surprised him if he had, but Mitch is thankful that Auston was either kind enough not to send any or had simply overlooked a prime opportunity for teasing.

Mitch notices Auston’s new feeling at their last confession before Auston goes home for the summer.  Mitch almost overlooks it because, after getting swept out of the playoffs, anger and disappointment are his primarily emotions.  This new feeling is small and Auston might not even know it's there.   Mitch can't begin to fathom what it is.  Right now, it looks like an uncut opal, sides a little jagged but with soft colors that make Mitch feel warm just looking at it.

Their session is short and Auston squeezes Mitch's hand goodbye.

 Mitch works hard in the off-season to get over Auston.  He works with one of the rookies who is staying in Toronto for the summer.  He reads books that had been recommended to him by various friends and enjoys some of them.  He tries to better his relationship with his parents, he's always been jealous of how close Auston is with his own parents and sisters, but finally accepts that they have little to talk about outside of hockey.

Mitch feels like he's achieved success in his goal to get over Auston, despite the fact they are in regular contact, until the same blonde starts showing up on all Auston's social media accounts just after Canada Day.  She’s stunning, with hair as long as her legs.

Mitch reacts badly, flying to France's Tahiti Beach for a week and having a fling with a local.  When he gets back to Toronto, a sunburned ass his only souvenir, he learns that the blonde is Auston's cousin and Clan Matthews used her wedding in Hawaii as excuse to have a family reunion.

Mitch feels stupid because he was jealous, and his off-season trainer laughs at him when Mitch asks to delay the start of their routine by a week.  After laying around on his stomach watching baseball, Mitch decides that his condo is too quiet.  He needs someone, or something, living with him.  A pet maybe.  He can't commit to one this summer now that his training has started but next summer.

Mitch's trainer agrees to let him drop jogging (Toronto is too hot for jogging in the summer except for very late at night or very early in the morning) if he takes up swimming and secures him a membership to the YMCA.  He shows up every morning at 5am and swims laps with women his Nana Marner's age.  They aren't fast swimmers, but they are steady, and Mitch feeds off them.  The Y kicks the lap swimmers out at 6:00 in favor of water aerobics, so Mitch heads to the ACC to eat breakfast and meet his trainer.

When he tells Auston about his new routine, he has mixed feelings.  The idea of swimming appeals to him, for the same reasons it appeals to Mitch, but the thought of getting up early does not. Mitch just laughs at him and proceeds to spend the next few weeks spamming Auston with pictures from his daily swims.  A picture of the empty pool, a picture of the clock when he starts, followed by a second picture of the clock when he gets out and a picture of his wet feet.

Auston isn't going to let Mitch beat him at lap swimming and comes back to Toronto early.  Mitch's heart almost stops when Auston exists the international arrivals gate at Pearson.  He is beautiful, tanned, and bulky.  When Auston wraps him up in an amazing hug, arm muscles corded like steel cables, Mitch feels impossibly small.  Auston's t-shirt smells like something hyper-masculine and Mitch wants to climb him like a tree.

Mitch is weak in the presence of a blazing sun like Auston.

The first week Auston joins Mitch for morning swims is hard on Auston.  After he forgets to pack breakfast for himself the first day, Mitch packs enough fresh fruit, plain oatmeal, and yogurt for them both.  Auston is still three-quarters asleep when Mitch picks him up at 4:20am every weekday and spends the first half of the trip breathing in the caffeinated fumes from the travel mug of coffee Mitch always has ready.

By the time they arrive at the Y, Auston is awake enough to greet the staff member at the front desk and be polite to the other swimmers.  He's still too tired to notice the ladies looking at him.  Because while Auston's swimsuit might end at his knees, it's a racing swimsuit and shows off everything.  Mitch's body threatens to embarrass him daily with the reminder that Auston's dick is proportional to the rest of him, so he never wastes any time getting in the pool.  This gives him a head start while Auston is side-lined by grannies.

Auston always drive them from the Y to the ACC, where they skate, lift weights, or watch tape with Mitch's trainer until noon.  Mitch drives them home and Auston always falls asleep five minutes into the drive.  He’ll never be a morning person.

Auston needs to confess two weeks after his return to Toronto.  For most of their session, Mitch is distracted by Auston’s skin and the warmth he generates.  He hasn't had regular skin contact with another human being since their last session in May and he’s missed feeling someone else’s skin again his own.

He’s missed Auston’s skin.  Mitch knows how Auston’s skin browns in the summer sun.  How different it is from his own.  His ex had once left a romantic novel open on his tablet where the author had described the heroine's skin as looking like new milk.  He hadn't understood what that had meant at the time, but he thinks he does now.

Thinking about his skin touching Auston's skin, has made Mitch suddenly aware of how Auston takes up space on his skin.  Auston isn't holding him any differently, one arm across Mitch's chest near his clavicles, but now Mitch is aware of Auston's fingers around his shoulder.  How, with minor effort, Auston could prevent Mitch from moving his upper body.

Mitch pulls himself away from these dangerous thoughts and focuses on Auston's emotional self-portrait.  Appreciation stretches vast and wide, while Joy shines like the sun.  The new feeling, still not named, grew over the summer.  It's still lumpy and warm.  Mitch wants to hold it close.

Auston had a good summer.  Auston is happy.

Mitch thinks about the new emotion for the rest of the session.

Mitch gets a call from his GM two weeks before training camp starts.  Management has finally convinced Auston to upgrade his "A" for the "C" and Babs wants Mitch to take the "A." 

His first duty as one of Auston's "A"s is to support him through the social media frenzy the day the Leafs announce his captaincy.  The morning of, Mitch picks Auston up at 7:20am to ensure they get to the ACC by 8:00 and it's clear that Auston is nervous.  He's armed with a huge travel mug of coffee that he holds in front of his face like it's a barrier between himself and the world.  He is still nervous when they arrive, so Mitch takes the lead going in, allowing Auston a few extra minutes inside his head.

The locker room is filled with people talking and moving around.  Mo, Auston's other "A", arrived first and looks resigned as Javier from makeup cakes his face with powder.  Mitch joins him, and they watch as Auston is swept away by the PR interns and taken to the equipment room.  They want to record him as someone sews the "C" onto his sweater.

As he waits his turn to be subjected to Javier's flashing brushes, Mitch grazes through the breakfast buffet and watches the photographers finish setting up their equipment.  Mitch has eaten most of his plate of fruit when Mo is pronounced suitable.  His gives his plate to Mo as Javier tells him to close his eyes.

By the time he's made up, the some of the PR people are back in the room and want to get Mitch and Mo's thoughts on Auston's captaincy.  Mitch goes first, Mo has a mouthful of grapes, saying that it was a long time coming, Auston will be a great captain, and Mitch is honored to lead an amazing team with him.  The camera eats it up and his phone vibrates in his pocket as the Leafs’ Twitter feed announces his thoughts to the world.

Auston and his sweater finally make an appearance and the whole room waits as he goes through the makeup routine.  When he finally pulls the sweater over his head, the cameras are flashing, and phones are recording.  Mitch, Mo, and Auston spend the next four hours having their pictures taken (separately and collectively) and give sound bites what feels like to every newspaper, tv station, radio station, and sports blog in the GTA. 

Mitch knows Auston is going to be a great captain.

Mo gives Auston two day's grace before reminding him that he's now responsible for hosting dinner for the rookies as well as the first team dinner.  Mitch and Auston are trying out Auston's new grill for the first time when Mo's text comes through and Mitch is subjected to the slump of Auston's shoulders when he realizes that 25 people will be invading his condo. Mitch knows that it doesn't matter that this is Auston's team, it's simply too many people in his space.

Mitch doesn't mind the people and offers up his place instead.  Auston looks grateful and what was supposed to be lunch between close friends turns into a working lunch as google catering companies between bites of steak. 

No catering company is going to turn down two jobs for Auston Matthews and both the team dinner (giant buffet, fancy beer, and video games) and the rookie dinner (eaten at Mitch's dining room table, all the rookies wear ties, and video games after dinner) are wildly successful.

 As thanks for Mitch's help, Auston gets them a table at Jacobs & Co Steakhouse.  Jacobs is a place where Auston is required to wear socks with his dress shoes but he more than rises to the occasion in a pearl grey suit and vest, ox-blood shoes, and a long black raincoat.  Auston hasn't bothered to do up the coat's buttons, and it billows out behind him.  He looks powerful and Mitch feels grossly underdressed in his slim-cut navy suit and magenta tie.

Auston's sartorial choices must be working on more people than just Mitch because the hostess looks like she's at risk of chocking on her own tongue. She gets them seated in a little alcove with their menus before fleeing.  Mitch feels sorry for her but Auston is oblivious, looking over the wine selection.  Mitch is grateful when their server is a middle age man who seems to be unflappable in the face of two hockey players but maybe a little over his head when faced with Auston's knowledge of wine and passes them off to a sommelier.

Mitch lets the talk of wine flow around him while he pretends to look at the menu.  If he was sitting across the table from anyone else, he would have said this was a date.  The combination of this restaurant, who they are, and Auston's suit choice are asking for people to look at them.  See them together.

But it's not a date because Auston is the person sitting across from him.  Auston, who has been his friend for years.  Auston, who only dates women in Toronto.  Mitch realizes that he hasn't heard about Auston going on any dates since his girlfriend broke it off over a year ago.  However, Auston is happier than he was a year ago, so Mitch anticipates he'll have someone in his life soon.

The thought of having to share Auston with lover makes his chest feel like it's being squeezed.  A restaurant that serves $880.00 steak is not the place to deal with these feelings; this can wait until he gets home.

Mitch is pulled from his thoughts at the sound of Auston saying his name.  Their dinner orders are taken, and the sommelier returns with a glass of wine for Auston and a neat three fingers of whiskey for Mitch.

Their conversation runs from serious to ridiculous, ebbing and flowing as is normal for people who spend many of their waking hours together.  They talk about how Mitch is adjusting to wearing a letter (fine), to how Mo is adjusting to being a dad (he accidentally wore a shirt to practice that had a spit-up stain on the back, so fairly standard), to what kind of captain Auston wants to be.

Auston wants to be a captain that leads by example.  He wants to show that kids from non-traditional hockey markets can do great things.  He wants to host summer camps like Sidney Crosby.  He wants his family, and Toronto, to be proud of him.  He looks very earnest.

The baring of Auston's hockey soul is interrupted by dessert (a fruit and cheese platter) and the check ($3,000).  Mitch objects to Auston playing for all of it, but Auston just hands over his credit card.

The ride back to Mitch's condo is peaceful.  Mitch wants it to last forever.

The Leafs start the season strong and stay steady.  They don't need to be blazing hot to win games, they just need to play Leafs hockey.  Mitch gives Auston a lot of the credit for nurturing the team's bond.  He tells Auston this on a free evening when he's sitting on Mitch's couch eating lemon chicken and watching tape.  Carolina is having a renaissance season and they'll make the Leafs work for their two points.  Auston doesn't say anything because his mouth is full, but he does give Mitch an unimpressed look and knocks their shoulders together.

That night, Auston falls sleep on Mitch's couch and is still there in the morning.  It's nice.

Auston needs to confess after a short but brutal road-trip at the end of November and his emotional self-portrait has drastically altered.  Mitch is used to seeing a day scene, where Joy shines down from straight above.  But now he sees an early morning scene, the sun barely staining the horizon pink and peach.  The symbols have changed as well.  Mitch feels frustration lurking somewhere and sees a bright pair of feline eyes staring back at him.  He can just see the outline of an enormous cat before it hunkers down.  Pride is far off at the horizon, but Mitch can't see its new form.

Mitch ignores Auston's known feelings in favor of looking for the unacknowledged feeling.  He doesn't see it and his first thought is that the feeling died.  He tips his head back and blows out a breath. When his eyes open, he is looking right at it.  It's a star; the only star in Auston's early morning sky. The jagged edges have been smoothed out and it looks like a perfectly round opal.

The light radiates is soft and warm.

It's love.

Auston Matthews is in love and that knowledge hangs like a millstone around Mitch's neck.  The love has stained him and now he can't forget.  He wants to forget.

It feels like some is using a crowbar to pry open his chest and tears are blinding him.  He had put off examining how he felt about Auston, had tricked himself into thinking that it had to do with proximity, to protect his heart.  Now, he's blindsided and has no defenses.

He barely makes it through his post-confession routine.  He spills milk on the counter for his hot chocolate and burns his tongue when he doesn't let it cool long enough.  He doesn't bother cleaning the spill up.  He doesn't want to go back into the guest bedroom, doesn't want to look at it.  He shuts the door, ignoring his phone charger and t-shirt.  He has other chargers and other shirts.

He texts Auston to say that he won't be at optional skate the next day, but he will be at tape review.  When Auston asks him why, he says he'd rather swim and do yoga.  He would rather not leave the condo, but he's committed himself to swimming, yoga, and his team. He packs his only gym bag that isn't Leafs-branded with his swim trunks, leggings, and extra-long yoga mat.

He sets his alarm and cries until he falls asleep.

The swimming and yoga provide some relief, but the pain comes flooding back when he meets up the team in the A/V room for tape review.  He's one of the last guys in but he knows where the team expects him to sit and he knows he needs to follow through.  That’s part of being a leader.

The team has left him a seat next to Auston, who's slouched over half of Mitch's seat in addition to his own.   Someone yells at Mitch about his ass in tights and Mitch smacks his own ass before shoving Auston's wayward knee away so he can sit down.

Auston gives him a concerned look, like Mitch is a pod person for choosing swimming and yoga over skating, and his knee bounces back so their legs are flush.  Mitch's bleeding heart both welcomes and shies away from the contact.

Mitch spends too much time trying to figure out who Auston is in love with.  He shouldn’t be spending any time on this, there is hockey to play and a team to lead, but Mitch has zero self-preservation instincts when it comes to his heart.  Mitch detects no discernible changes in Auston's behavior.  He doesn't seem to be more attached to his phone, he doesn't leave the bar before Mitch does when the team does out, and Mitch overhears Auston's rookie road roommate comment he was disappointed to find out that his captain is boring.

After a few weeks, Mitch gives up trying to figure out who the object of Auston's affections are.  He’ll will tell people when he's ready and Mitch will deal with the fallout then.  For now, he'll enjoy Auston's company while he can.

Christmas is an emotionally complex time for Mitch.  He's accepted his mother's invitation to Christmas lunch but can't say he's looking forward to seeing his parents.  They haven't spoken in any depth for almost a year and Mitch is slowly accepting this as the new normal.  He is looking forward to seeing his brother, sister-in-law, and their two boys.  While Mitch's relationship with his parents might be lacking, his relationship with his brother and his family is not.  He gets a list of what his nephews want from his sister-in-law and buys everything on it.

Auston is concerned about his lack of holiday cheer and extends him an invitation to spend Christmas Eve with himself and younger sister.  The whole family was supposed to be in Toronto, but Auston's parents are staying in Arizona because his older sister is in the hospital with extreme morning sickness.  Mitch declines, because it feels wrong to intrude, staying in with a pizza and the first "Die Hard" movie.  It’s a Christmas movie; he doesn’t care what his informal Twitter poll says.

Mitch is planning on spending New Year’s Eve alone too and turns down Auston’s invitation to be his plus one at a white-tie party.  Mo is hosting something kid-friendly, but Mitch isn’t strong enough to deal with families right now.

It’s just after 10:30 and Mitch is just queuing up something popular on Netflix that seems to be about women who have complex family relationships and wear big hats, when Auston calls.  He’s still at the party, Mitch can hear muted sounds in the background.  Auston wants to ditch the party, and the rich match-making mamas of Toronto's most beautiful, to take refuge in Mitch’s condo.

When Auston arrives, one of the hat ladies is being wooed by an unsuitable man.  Auston throws himself down on Mitch’s couch, yanking off his tie and vest, and taking out his cufflinks.  Mitch goes to find him some sweats and a t-shirt.  He doesn’t have anything that would really fit Auston, but he manages to scare up a pair of promotional pants that he’s never worn because they were too big and t-shirt that was stretched out in the wash.  When Auston proceeds to strip down to his trunks in the middle of Mitch’s living-room, he does the decent thing and heads to the kitchen for some snacks instead of staring at Auston’s dick.

When he comes back with two apples and a bowl of mixed nuts, Auston is hogging the entire couch.  Mitch is having none of that and taps Auston on the shoulder to get him to raise his head, so he can sit.  Auston proceeds to use Mitch’s thigh like a pillow while he picks through the nut mix, taking all the cashews and pecans and eating one of the apples in five large bites.

The New Year finds Mitch and Auston on the couch together, Mitch’s hand running through Auston’s hair, while the ladies in hats talk about marriage.

Auston sleeps on the couch again.  Mitch would like him to stay forever.

Mitch had planned to get a pet during the off-season, but it doesn’t work out that way.  Toronto sends Auston to the All-Star Game in Arizona and Mitch drops him off at the airport before braving the cold to drive across town to the high-end niche market and its amazing meat counter.

He's just finished loading the groceries into his SUV when he sees something pressed up against the side of the building, trying to stay out of the wind.  It's a cat and Mitch knows he has to try to catch it.  Fortune is clearly smiling on him because he somehow manages to get the cat cornered and throw his heavy coat over it.

He gets the thrashing bundle back to his SUV, blasting the heat when he gets the engine running.  The cat (average size, skinny, marmalade colored) escapes the coat and is looking for a place to hide.  There aren't any because Mitch has dropped most of the seats into the floor to make room for his gear bag.  It huddles as far away from him as possible, but he doesn't care.

When Mitch gets home, he shuts the cat in the half-bathroom by the front door.  He has some plain chicken in a packet and he puts a little on a saucer, heading back to the bathroom.  The cat is hiding between the wall and toilet, so Mitch takes a picture and leaves the food.

He drops the picture in the team chat with a request for advice.  No one has any useful advice, their wives and girlfriends take of things like this, until Mo’s wife emails him a list of supplies he’ll need.  She also gives him the name and address of the vet most of the families use, what brand of food she buys, how to go about getting a pet license, and the pet-sitting service she uses when the family is out of town.

Mitch didn’t know that pets needed to be licensed.

He tells Mo that he married up.

By the time the All-Star break is over, the cat has a name, Ginger, and she and Mitch are learning to live in the same space.  It’s a good arrangement so far and Mitch’s condo feels less empty with Ginger informing Mitch of her wants and needs at every opportunity.  She becomes Mitch’s confessor, laying down in his lap or on his chest when he’s watching TV in the living room, and allowing him to pet her and talk to her until he feels lighter.

She knows all about his feelings for Auston.

Auston’s first confession of the new year comes after the All-Star Game and Mitch braves the guest bedroom; it needs airing out.  This is their first session in almost two months and Mitch thinks that Auston touches him differently, but he can't be sure.  He's afraid he's projecting.  Mitch thinks that Auston's touch is soft, like he's discovering for the first time that Mitch has skin.  it also feels heavy, like if Mitch were to take the blindfold off, he would see the smudged whorls of Auston's finger prints dragged across his skin.

Auston's massive forearm is close to his throat and it makes Mitch want things he can't have.  He imagines Auston's hand wrapped around his throat, Auston detailing how he's going to take Mitch apart, how he's going to reduce Mitch to a sobbing, heavy-limbed mess begging for Auston's cock.  How Auston will ruin Mitch for anyone else.   He imagines one of Auston's hands cradling his face, tipping his head as he lays claim to Mitch's skin with his teeth.

Mitch kills these thoughts, nails digging into the palms of his hands. He’s not going to get hard in front of Auston.  That would be a betrayal of their friendship.

Mitch refocuses on Auston's self-portrait and the star sparkling mockingly at him.

The session is very quiet and Auston is very still.

When he gets Auston's text that he's back in the parking garage, Mitch jerks off to all his earlier thoughts.  He doesn't even remove the blindfold or earplugs and the fall over the edge is sharper and faster because of it.  He stands in a freezing shower after he regains movement post-orgasm and tries to scrub the shame off his skin.  He fails.

February always brings out irrationality in hockey players. In the locker room, Valentine’s Day is a financial dick-measuring contest with everyone trying to out-spend his teammates.  Who buys the biggest bouquet of flowers?  The most expensive chocolate?  Who bought an engagement ring?  How big is it?  In the past, Mitch killed Valentine’s Day; being with someone for a long time means you know what kind of gifts they enjoy. 

This year, he has no Valentine and the whole run-up is making his skin itch.  Because the team doesn’t have a game on Valentine’s, it gets worse when some of the guys start bragging out where they made dinner reservations.

To have something to do other than sit at home with his cat on what used to be his favorite holiday, Mitch volunteers his evening in service to the game he loves.  He shows up at the practice of an all-girls Peewee team and spends almost as much time helping to run drills as listening to critiques of his own play.  Working with the girls reminds Mitch that he can still have hockey even after he retires from the NHL.

February also means that the playoff picture starts to take shape.  The Leafs are in a good position but the media has already started to breathe down their necks and are looking for cracks in their cohesion.  Playoffs also means that the already bright spot-light shining on Auston gets hotter.  Mitch watches Auston’s shoulders creep up around his ears and the locker-room gets a little tense.  Mitch fines several guys for starting spats on purpose but it’s clear that Auston needs support.

Mitch needs to be careful in how he shows that support; he doesn’t need the press commenting about how Auston isn’t worth his salary if he can’t lead his team.  Auston likes to lead by example, leaving Mo and Mitch give the locker room speeches, and Mitch creates a new team ritual that should keep the press at bay for a while and get Auston’s should back where they belong.

In the past, the team has randomly lined up behind the starting goalie when going out on to the ice for a game.  Goalies go out first for a reason, all that padding requires the extra room, but now Mitch puts Auston in the number two spot, leading all skaters onto the ice.  He has Auston’s back in the third position with Mo bringing up the rear.

Before they rush out onto the ice, Mitch puts his ungloved hand on Auston’s back; feels him inhale, exhale.  They go.

The number of Auston’s confessions has also increased from one or two a month to at least one a week.  This time, Mitch knows he isn’t wrong; Auston’s touch has changed.  Sometimes it feels soft but other times his touch is desperate like Mitch is the only thing that keeps him from being stretched too thin.

Mitch notices the times when Auston’s touch is soft are the times when he can feel Auston’s mouth moving against his shoulder or the back of his neck, entrusting Mitch with all the concerns that he can’t voice to another human being.  It’s during the soft times when Auston’s arm moves from across Mitch’s clavicles to around his waist.  Like a lover.

When Auston’s touch is heavy, he just clutches onto Mitch; like speaking is too hard and all he wants is skin-to-skin contact with another person.  During the desperate times, Mitch always hopes Auston will leave bruises, something he can see and know that Auston touched him.

By the time April rolls around, and the regular season is done, Mitch is angry on Auston’s behalf.  Where is this person he loves?  Why aren’t they supporting him? Aren’t they proud that Auston is leading the Leafs to the post-season?  It seems like Auston is always sitting on Mitch’s couch watching tape, or sleeping on Mitch’s sofa, or eating all of Mitch’s expensive granola, or ordering stupid toys for Mitch’s cat.  If Auston’s person doesn’t love him enough to take care of this amazing human being, Mitch will.

Not that Mitch isn’t affected by the upcoming push for the Cup, he is.  Having Auston around makes it easier.  They try cooking together.  Sometimes it goes well, other times not.  Auston likes to show off his ever-expanding knowledge of wine and buys a bottle every time they make a meal together.  He also makes Mitch try a sip from each bottle.  Mitch thinks the ones Auston likes taste like someone took a pair of hockey socks from the end of the season and soaked them in vinegar.  Auston thinks the few wines Mitch will drink taste like sugar water. 

Napping is easier because he isn’t the only one doing it.  Mitch loves standing in the doorway to the living room and watch Ginger and Auston sleep together.  It's a tempting, terrible fantasy of togetherness and it crushes Mitch's heart.  Auston is in love with someone who isn't Mitch.  Someday, sooner rather than later, he'll have to face this person and give up all rights to Auston that don't have to do with hockey.

The only thing more emotionally inmate than sharing space in Mitch’s condo are Auston’s confessions.  All though the end of the season and post-season, something big gathering has been strength on Auston’s emotional horizon.  He’s holding back a storm of fear and uncertainty.  Love must be the driving force behind the storm because it echoes through the emotional stain.

By the time the Leafs are bounced from the playoffs in the Conference Championship against the Devils, Mitch knows that Auston needs tell the person he loves but he’s scared. 

Auston’s fear is a hooded, death-like figure and it is always present.  On the days when Auston’s touch is soft, Fear is off to the side.  But on the days when Auston clutches and his emotions are stormy, Fear comes to the foreground.  It is usually holding Love, in a lantern or with in the folds of its cloak where hands would be.  Mitch always stares, wondering if Love would beak or burn out if was fully pulled into that shapeless garment.

The last thing Auston does before he leaves for Arizona is confess.  By now, the storm of uncertainty is raging like a hurricane inside him, but Mitch wouldn’t know it from his touch if he couldn’t see the feelings.

Auston’s touch is still soft, like he thinks Mitch will break.  The placement of his arms is intimate; Mitch snug up against his chest, one arm around his waist just above the line of his sweat pants and the other across the broadest part of Mitch’s chest.  Mitch takes a risk, tipping his head back so it rests on Auston’s shoulder.  Auston keeps holding him.

As the session is ending and Mitch’s hands are clutching his phone, Auston is suddenly cupping his face with both hands; tipping it up.  He feels Auston run his nose up his cheek, lips moving.

There isn’t enough skin contact for Mitch to know what Auston is feeling, but he swears he hears thunder and smells rain.  Mitch thinks it is more likely the hallucinations of a shattering heart. 

He isn’t coming back from this.  Auston is it for him.

Last summer, Mitch tried to get over Auston Matthews.  This summer, he works on accepting that he loves Auston and not allowing those feelings to rule his life.  He swims at the YMCA with every weekday, he does more yoga, and he skates.

He is the silent partner for a month-long hockey camp for girls hosted by the Toronto Furies and held at the ACC.  He loves to watch from the nose-bleed seats as the girls learn from their heroes.  Mitch can see the stars in their eyes even from his horrible location.

He takes a vacation to Australia to watch the Australian Ice Hockey League.  No one has any idea who he is and while the play is not as good as in the NHL, hockey is still hockey.

He thinks about moving out of his condo; Auston has woven himself into every knock and cranny and cannot be wiped away. 

He thinks about families.  How he wants one.

He thinks about getting another cat.

He shares most of his summer with Auston.  Mitch sends him pictures of the pool, the camp flier, and game clips from the AIHL.  They Facetime regularly.

He does not share his thoughts of moving or family.

In return, Auston sends him a lot of pictures of his family.  His older sister and her husband kissing their new baby, his younger sister kissing her new job offer.  Auston's parents celebrating their 35th wedding anniversary.  Auston slow-dancing with his grandmother.

Auston snaps at him from Diamondbacks' games, the desert hiking trails he walks in the very early hours of the day, the jogging paths he runs after the sun goes down.

There is a picture of Auston's grueling off-season weight-training schedule.  For once, Mitch is glad he can't bulk up.

Auston is for the remodel of his childhood home, so there are pictures of his parents looking at paint swatches, carpet samples, and opening cupboard doors in showrooms.

Auston talks about buying a house in Scottsdale but doesn't know if he would get back with any consistency.

Mrs Matthews says hello to Mitch regularly when he Facetimes with Auston; he loves her smile.  Auston has her smile.

Auston comes back to Toronto in early September and Mitch picks him up at Pearson stupidly late.  Fortunately, the only people at the airport this time of night are exhausted business travelers, and no one gives two hockey players a second look.

Mitch feels nothing but power in the chorded muscles roped across his back and shoulders when they hug.  Mitch feels Auston exhale the breath he was apparently holding, and he sinks into Auston's warmth.

The ride to Auston's condo is peaceful, but the atmosphere turns highly charged when Mitch pulls up in front of the building.  Auston is looking out the front windshield but when he turns to look at Mitch his face is determined.  Mitch can't read the play.  Auston lifts a hand and then drops it, like he wants to touch something, but changes his mind.  He must change it back because he runs one knuckle over Mitch's cheek before getting out of the SUV.

Mitch spends the drive home confused.  He feels like he's standing at the edge of a precipice.

 He won’t see Auston until his confession in two days.  They both have other commitments that will keep them busy until then.

Mitch buys out two suites at the ACC for all this season’s home games.  One box is for all-girls hockey teams and the second is for LGBTQA youth groups.  Mitch hates the lip-service of the NHL's “Hockey is for Everyone” month, so he tries to become the change he wants to see in the world.

Mitch and Ginger shoot a print ad for cat kibble.  The shoot is a mess because the photographer is allergic to cats and Ginger can’t be herded or bribed into doing anything.  They do manage one good magazine photo; a candid of Mitch with his elbows on his kitchen counter while he and Ginger touch noses.  The photos that end up on social media are of Ginger's resting bitch-face and one of her homicide attempts on Mitch, trying to trip him as he pulls a new bag of food out of the pantry.

The day of Auston's confession Mitch sleeps in.  He feels like he spent the last two days in emotional limbo.  The day feels heavy and so do his feet.

Mitch wonders if this is what it feels like when hope dies.

He doesn’t want to see that stupid star.

He spends the afternoon getting ready, changing the sheets on the guest bed and pulling on comfortable pajama pants.  He pulls out his largest ceramic mug and the tub of hot chocolate powder; he'll need the liquid hug later.  He brushes his teeth for something to do.

Ginger, feeding off Mitch's emotions, is nowhere to be found.

He thinks he's crying when he feels his phone buzz with the text saying that Auston is in the parking garage.  He can't tell because of the blindfold.

Sometime later, he feels Auston pull the throw blanket on the bed back; blankets aren't usually involved in confession, but Mitch needs its protection.  Auston's hands on his cheeks make him feel special.  Today, Auston spoons them on their sides, backs to the doorway as if to block out the rest of the world, with Mitch's head on Auston's bicep.

Mitch doesn't know how long they stay wrapped up in each other, his grief is messing with his sense of time.  Auston doesn't speak for the entire time, Mitch can feel the pauses.

Auston's self-portrait is calm, Fear is gone.  Whatever caused the storm clouds in the spring, Auston has reconciled those feelings. 

Love shines on.

Too soon it's over and Auston is making sure Mitch has his phone.  It will take him roughly ten minutes to get back to his car.  Mitch counts down the time in his head, hoping to stave off a sob.

When the text comes through, everything breaks, and Mitch knows the sound he makes is wet and ugly.  He feels Ginger jump on the bed behind him and he removes the blindfold and earplugs, rolling over for some comfort.

Auston is standing in the doorway, still shirtless, and looking straight at him.

The seal of the confession shatters, the magic returning to the earth, and Mitch is surrounded by love.

**Author's Note:**

> Coda:  
> In the palaces of heaven, Fate looks up from her tea cup as a once-slack ribbon is suddenly pulled taunt. She puts the cup down, allowing the sleeves of her kimono to fall over her hands, and watches as the ribbon stretches to the horizon and beyond. 
> 
> Finally. She likes happy endings.


End file.
